


Sex and Candy

by feverbeats



Category: DC - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-10
Updated: 2010-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-10 01:13:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverbeats/pseuds/feverbeats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He never thought he'd get off on fighting crime, but the lifestyle isn't half bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex and Candy

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Disco Lemonade](http://archiveofourown.org/works/93602).

  
Dick Grayson learned a lot of things from Bruce Wayne. Most importantly, Dick learned how to hate. These days, he's doing a little better with that. Some time spent with Clark in Metropolis has earned him a new suit and new outlook on life. In the mornings, there's coffee. There are clean towels in the bathroom and Clark's kisses taste like mint. Dick is learning how to live again.

That all changes one night when there's a big storm brewing and Clark comes in and turns off the t.v. and then tells Dick he's got to fly out of town to deal with something. By the time he finishes telling Dick exactly _what_ he's got to deal with, Dick is feeling seriously unhappy about the whole business.

Now, Dick is slowly packing his bags. Going back to Gotham wasn't high on his list, especially not yet. Maybe in a few months, when he's learned how to move on a little better. Couldn't Bruce have waited to replace him? Evidently not. And not only has Dick been replaced, he's been replaced by a thieving hooker from outer space. At least, that's what he hears.

*

The sun comes in the window and plays sharply off Jason's hair. He smiles, half-awake, and he waits for Alfred to come in with his morning hot chocolate. This is . . . cool. He never thought he'd get off on fighting crime, but the lifestyle isn't half bad. The bed is warm and the service and good and Bruce buys him Sum 41 CDs if he wants. Bruce won't buy Jason mullet rock, but they can work on that one.

In the last few days, though, there's been a nagging feeling in Jason's brain. He can _do_ things that other people can't do. He's strong. He's fast. The problem is, he hasn't been _using_ his abilities since . . . well. Since he left Metropolis. The switch was fast and natural and Jason was still young when it happened. He just sort of turned off when they hit Gotham. Gotham doesn't _support_ that kind of thing, and Jason's body responded before his mind even had a chance. Gotham is like real life, and Jason has learned to appreciate that. Now that he's patrolling, though, he can feel something prickling at the base of his skull and sometimes he hits a little too hard. He wonders if Bruce notices.

Alfred does not appear to be around this morning. Jason shrugs, gets out of bed, and pads down the hall to Bruce's room. Jason may have been a decent kid at some point, but the streets have done their thing, and he's more than willing to mess with Bruce a little. It's not like Jason even pretends to understand the split between Bruce Wayne and Batman, but he knows that playing with the line always gets interesting results. Sometimes, there is slamming up against a wall.

Bruce is asleep when Jason comes in and there are deep shadows on his face. Maybe Bruce is Batman today. He's not sleeping well, clearly. Lately, they haven't had the _time_ to sleep. The city has been heating up lately, and old villains are crawling out of the woodwork to get a look at the new kid with the suit and the _thighs_. It weirds Jason out a little, but he can roll with it. He's more than ok with the interesting things that are happening to Bruce, anyway. When Bruce gets tired, he gets sloppy, and when Bruce gets sloppy, Jason gets to _know_ him a little. Jason really wants to know how the first Robin managed living with a guy who doesn't _talk_.

Bruce rolls over in his sleep and Jason sighs. He sits on the bed, fingering the silky sheets. "Hey, Bruce? Wake up." Bruce rolls over again, but he doesn't answer. Jason smiles and slips under the covers.

Bruce wakes up with a jerk. "Jay?" That nickname has started happening a lot, and it makes Jason smile.

"Hey, Bruce," he murmurs. He feels Bruce relax against him. They're touching in all the right places, Jason's smooth skin against Bruce's scarred, muscled, hard flesh.

Oh yeah. _This_ has been going on since three days after they met, and Jason's not at all shy about admitting that he's the one who started it. He's not blind, though, and he saw the look in Bruce's eyes when Jason put on the suit. Batman and Robin, right? Jason can count on one hand the number of times they've fucked out of costume.

Maybe he feels like changing that, so he dips his fingers over a scar on Bruce's chest. "Morning."

Bruce shifts slightly. "Your hands are cold, Jason."

Jason ignores Bruce and slides one leg between Bruce's. "Sorry." Then one of Bruce's hands is on Jason's ass, pushing him harder against Bruce. Jason looks up at him with determination and wets one of his own fingers in his mouth. It slips out with a slight _pop_, and Bruce swallows. Jason lives for throwing Bruce off balance. He lets his hand drift under the covers, sliding his slick finger up the inside of Bruce's leg.

Bruce tenses for a second before _flipping_ Jason over onto his back. Jason always gets a little thrill when Bruce does that. Jason, quite a bit shorter than Bruce, pushes on Bruce's feet with his toes. He comes up to Bruce's chest, a perfect position. Bruce gasps when Jason starts to suck one of his nipples and he begins to move against Jason, forcing him down hard into the mattress. Jason grins, loving the feeling of Bruce's hard cock between his legs. He spreads them wider. Bruce makes a small noise before doing something very fast with his hand which results in Jason's pajama pants being shoved down around his knees.

All of a sudden, Jason feels the _thing_ at the base of his skull flex, and he flips _Bruce_ over, landing on top of him, hard. That's an even bigger thrill. In fact, Jason can feel his whole body getting hot-

There's a loud noise, kind of like what a laser might sound like in the imagination of a teenager who's seen too many movies. Two thin beams of light blow out of Jason's eyes and sear perfectly round holes in the headboard. Bruce blinks. "Jay."

Jason blinks too, rolling off Bruce. "Sorry 'bout that. That's, uh, never happened to me before." He eyes the headboard nervously.

There's a brief silence, then Bruce says, "I thought you might have powers. Like your father."  
"Like Clark," Jason says, not liking the sound of his own voice when he says it.

Bruce frowns for a second and then says, "Yes. Like Clark."

Jason pulls one leg up under him and says harshly, "Maybe that's why Mom left him. Nobody wants to be fucked by an alien."

Bruce looks for a second like he wants to slap Jason, but his damn hand is still healing from the time he hit Clark, and anyway, that might tell Jason more than he's supposed to know. Jason gets it from the look, though. "Yeah," he says, "I know, Bruce. Jason has two daddies."

Bruce's mouth tightens in what might be a smile. "Hardly. At any rate, I wondered why your powers weren't manifesting. Some of them, such as the heat vision, probably wouldn't have shown themselves until now anyway. Others, such as your strength, have probably been latent for a while."

Jason sighs. Bruce is in full Batman mode now, and Jason _knows_ all this junk already. "I don't need powers," he says. "I think I can mess people up well enough without them."

"Hm," Bruce says. "That's a problem. Your powers are clearly coming back, whether you want them to or not. We're going to have to play it safe. You'll have to change they way you fight."

"Yeah? Teach me. Fight me." Jason spreads his legs again. "Let me fuck you."

"I'm not sure that's safe," Bruce says quietly, after a second.

Jason lets himself sneer. "That's ok," he says. "I could hold back. If I wanted to. Or I could just let you do the work. I'd rather be fucked, anyway."

Bruce looks disturbed for a second, but then the expression is gone. "I wish you wouldn't talk like that," he says.

But Jason's lived on the on the streets, and he knows that's how you have to talk.

*

On the bus to Gotham, Dick puts on shades and very carefully ignores the other passengers. It's dark by the time they get going, and the woman in the seat next to Dick smells faintly of peppermint. Dick wants nothing more than to go back to Metropolis, but Clark hasn't been back in a few days and Dick has some _things_ to say to Bruce.

About halfway through the trip, Dick is jolted awake by this sound of his cell phone. "Hello?" he says, and his voice sounds groggy and broken up.

"Hey, Dick. It's Clark." Clark sounds worn out and beaten down and any number of other unpleasant things.

"Hey," Dick says carefully. "How did it go in Gotham?"

There's a short silence, then Clark says, "Not too well."

"Oh yeah?" Dick is very much not surprised. "Where've you been?" he asks. The woman in the seat next to him is starting to glare at him.

Clark sighs, sounding very tired. "Space." The way he says that word will always leave Dick breathless, and he's not even really sure why. Clark keeps talking over the buzz in Dick's head. "I needed to get away for a few days. I should have called. I'm sorry, I didn't think of it."

"Hey. No big deal. Look, I'm out of town anyway, doing some stuff. I'll see you when I get back. Be careful." He isn't really sure why he doesn't tell Clark where he's going.  
Clark exhales into the phone. "Ok. Ok. Great. I'll see you then. Bye."

"Bye," Dick says, and maybe something in the way he says goodbye is suspicious, because the woman next to him looks curious.

"Girlfriend?" she asks.

It takes Dick a second to figure out what she's asking and another second to figure out what he wants to say. "No," he says, "Not really."

She nods, and he goes back to figuring out what the hell he's going to say to Bruce when he gets there. The stupid, tinny music in his headphones makes it easy to avoid the topic, though.

Before too long, though, the bus pulls into the station, and Dick's head snaps up. Gotham is dark and dirty and all around him again, and he isn't ready. It feels like he's choking. Screw this. He knows _exactly_ what he's going to say to Bruce, because now he's pissed off.

Dick catches a taxi to a hotel, because there's no way in hell he's staying with Bruce. At the last minute, though, he tells the driver to turn around. He doesn't need to stay the night in Gotham. He'll just get in, do his stuff, and then get back out on the next bus.

*

It's late enough that Dick feels rude when he knocks on Bruce's door, but then again, he isn't exactly here to be polite. After a second, the door opens. "Alfred," Dick says, both embarrassed and relieved. He was coming on ready for a fight, but when he sees Alfred, he deflates a little.

Alfred takes Dick's appearance in stride. "Master Dick. We've missed you."

"Can I come in?" Dick asks, acutely aware that he doesn't live here anymore.

Alfred hesitates. "Perhaps this is not the most opportune moment. Master Bruce has just returned from a patrol, and he's in a bit of a Mood."

"Fuck," Dick says with feeling. Then, "Sorry, Alfred. It's just, I haven't really got anywhere else to go."

Alfred raises an eyebrow, and Dick tries not to think about why. "Come in," Alfred says, and Dick follows him inside.

It's crazy how much _the same_ the place looks. Dick would have expected things to have changed a bit, and he was prepared for that. He mentions this to Alfred, who says darkly, "I'm rather afraid Master Bruce is more concerned with keeping things the same."

Great. So that's what this new kid is about. Did Bruce really miss him that much? Yeah, right. Maybe Bruce just has issues with change. Well, Dick suddenly doesn't feel like sticking around to see any more.

At that moment, however, a teenage boy walks in. He's a little shorter than Dick, with blue eyes and black hair which appears to have been dyed, because there are _blonde roots_. That in itself is enough to freak Dick out pretty badly, but before he can leave, the kid sees him. "Hey. Who are you?"

"Dick Grayson," Dick says tiredly.

The kid's eyes narrow, and Dick sees that the kid's jaw is much sharper than his own. "Oh. Oh. Robin!"

"Yeah, not anymore," Dick says, and talk about hate at first sight. You can put him down as _not happy_ about this kid. Besides, the kid's jeans are too tight and his face is a little too trashy.

"Yeah, no kidding," the kid says. "I'm Robin now. My name's Jason." He eyes Dick with what looks like interest. "What're you doing here, anyway?"

"Kind of a brat, aren't you?" Dick shoots back. "I'm here to see Bruce."

"Oh," Jason says, clearly a bit disappointed. "Well, he's still down in the cave." His face lights up again with what looks suspiciously like a smirk. "You still remember how to get down there?"

"Fuck off," Dick says with feeling, turning to find the mechanism.

Before he can find it, there's a faint whistle from behind him, and then there are suddenly two thin streams of fire shooting past Dick's head. They miss him by maybe an inch. Dick spins around to see Jason looking a little guilty, but not nearly as guilty as he should. "Sorry," he says, "My bad."

*

When Dick gets down to the cave, Bruce has taken the cowl off, but he's still wearing the rest of the suit. He's sitting at the computer, looking rather more exhausted than Dick expected. "Bruce," he says, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous room.

Bruce whips around, surprise and maybe something else showing on his face for a second before he can mask it. "Dick."

Dick takes a deep breath, trying to ignore Bruce's exhaustion. He needs to get this out, and he's not about to let his feelings get in the way. "Bruce, how the _hell_ could you let that kid be Robin? He's a little psycho! He's a thief, a hooker, and a thug; and I'm pretty sure he was hitting on me! Besides, you don't know what sort of powers he's got. He could be dangerous."

"Dangerous like Clark?" Bruce asks softly.

Dick realizes that Bruce _knows_ about him and Clark. That adds a whole new level of complicated to this, because Dick knows about _Bruce_ and Clark. They look at each other for a second, then Dick says, "So, he's staying, huh? You trust him?"

Bruce sighs. "Dick. I'm not trying to . . ."

_Replace me_, Dick says. He saw Jason's hair. How stupid does Bruce think he is? He can't deal. He can't. So before Bruce can try to explain, Dick leaves. He walks out of the damn cave, out of the house, and hopefully out of Bruce's life. This was a huge mistake. He should have know that coming here would just screw him up.

In the taxi to the airport, Dick calls Clark, something he has never done before. He's always let Clark call him. This time, though, he needs someone who is just as pissed off at Bruce as he is.

*

"I see you met Dick," Bruce says, sounding about as tired as Dick did.

"Yeah," Jason says, "And he's got the best ass I've ever seen on a man." He's lounging on Bruce's sofa and watching t.v.

Bruce looks annoyed. "Mm. Well, he's gone now. And we need to get on with your training."  
Jason doesn't know Bruce well enough yet to say for sure, but it looks like Bruce is compartmentalizing again, shutting away his feelings about Dick's visit somewhere very much else. This is really helping contribute to Jason's theory that Bruce Wayne in fuckin' _dead_.

*

Over the course of the next two weeks, Jason's powers make a full recovery. He's even flying. Of course, this means that Bruce is keeping even closer tabs on him. Jason can't even walk downtown to get a candy bar without Bruce coming along.

With the return of Jason's powers has come the anger which was momentarily submerged under the excitement of a new life. Bruce is holding him back, and he has so much he wants to do, from going to the movies alone to fucking up Two Face as badly as he can. For now, Jason just waits, soaking up the good things about his new life. And there _are_ good things.

Beating the bad guys is always a blast, even if he can't really hit them anymore. Jason's not complaining about having Batman as a lover, either, although he's not sure that lover is the right word. Jason's never been big on brining emotion into it. The fact remains, though, that Bruce fucks like a fighter, and Jason's got to get out the fighting out of his system somehow.

*

Morning. Bed. Coffee. Not the good kind, either. Bruce glares balefully at Alfred. "What did I do now?"

Alfred ignores the question. "You appear to have injured your ribs rather magnificently." He indicates the bruises which seem to have bloomed across Bruce's side overnight.

"Mm," says Bruce says noncommitally. He doesn't particularly want to discuss the origin of the bruises with Alfred.

Alfred's eyebrow goes up. "If I may . . . I don't believe you had those bruises when you returned from your patrol last night."

Well, fine. Alfred clearly knows. Of course he does. Bruce curses silently. There's no easy way to do this. "Alfred, I understand the dangers of having a meta-human sidekick."

Alfred sighs. "I was simply wondering if you're doing this for the boy, or because you miss-"  
"No!" Bruce says. "This isn't about Dick, Alfred!"

"Not Dick," Alfred says quietly. "Mister Kent."

*

There are even harder bits of dealing with a meta-human sidekick. Jim Gordon, for example, turns out not to be very receptive to the idea. "I'm just saying I don't love it, Batman," Jim says, while Jason circles in the sky above the police station. "He's just a kid. Are you sure you can control him?"

"Of course," Bruce says, in his very best hard-boiled voice. He's been having this mildly exasperating discussion with Jim for the better part of a half-hour now, and he's getting sick of it. "Look, Jim, I understand. I know better than anyone what it takes to handle a Kryptonian."

Jim's moustache quirks when he smiles. "I'm sure you do."

"Is this about Superman?" Bruce asks, hopefully letting his voice become unreadable.  
Jim nods, still smiling. "Yeah. It might be. Just be careful, all right?"

Bruce grits his teeth. Clearly, the hardest part of this whole business is going to be dealing with people who seem to have a mildly obsessive interest in his personal life.


End file.
